by Aubrey Cara
“Have you had enough, pet?”
“Whatever master thinks is fair.”
A lightning bolt of leather strikes straight down between my thighs, knocking the breath from my lungs. I close my thighs and cup my cunt.
“Back in position.” His voice is low. Strained. I’ve been with him long enough to know he’s close to losing his tight rein on his control and fuck me. It’s going to be hard, and it’s going to hurt. I’m still wet with arousal at the thought, as if he’s been working my cunt with his mouth and fingers and not my ass with his strap.
Gritting my teeth I roll back to my knees squeezing my eyes shut tight as I spread my thighs. Tense and waiting.
“Move your hands, little girl.”
I shake my head.
“Xanthia.” My name comes out a warning.
Trembling, I move my hands away from my cunny and fist them on either side of my head. Another strike hits right over my clit. Once. Twice. Three times, and I cry out even as I hold myself rigid.
And then he’s on me, angling my hips high and pushing his thick cock inside me. I try to relax into the invasion, but he wraps his hand over my throat, drawing me back against him.
“Does my naughty pet deserve to come?” The question comes out savage. His breath puffs against my ear as he pumps into me. His hand tightens his hold, making me claw at his hand. “Does she?”
I try to breath. My vision blurs. My world spins. With his free hand, he brutally pinches and pulls my on my sensitive nipples, and I feel a tightening in my core. It makes fire burn where he hammers into me.
“Please,” I gasp. “Please.” I’m going to come.
“Hold yourself open.”
He’s asked this of me before. I tense. I know what’s coming. Death and life. Pleasure and brutal pain. “No, please.”
His fist squeezes on my throat, and I reach down spreading my labia and hood wide and expose my clit with exhilaration and fear. I cringe right before his hand slaps down on my engorged nerved bundle again and again. My mouth opens in a soundless scream as my body splitters apart, yet I hold myself open for the onslaught.
Tears track down my cheeks as he swells until he can only rock and grunt. He slams into me as far as he can one last time. With a hoarse bellow, he floods me with his wet warmth, until his essence leaks out and slides down our legs.
Then he wraps himself around me and eases us both to our sides. He strokes my hair out of my face as my breathing evens, then presses his lips to my temple. On the king’s ship, I was a hollowed-out version of who I am now. I dreaded the king’s attention as much I knew to accept it. I wished I were a regal veran. I wished I were Trina and Yana who had each other. I wished I were anyone but me. But with my master I’m filled and made whole.
His callused hand slides down to the tiny bump of life growing inside me. I cannot believe I’m breeding.
“Was I too rough with you?” There is a hint of vulnerability in his gruff voice that makes my heart pinch.
I cover his hands with mine and shake my head. “No, master.” I have a feeling, as my belly swells, my Monrok warrior will gentle his touch, but for now I relish in the unrestrained way he takes me.
“Good. I need you again.” He moves inside me, dragging my hips back to meet his thrusts. His lips and teeth scrape down the side of my neck, and he cups my breasts. “Are you going to blossom for me, my little flower?”
He slams his rigid length deep. I gasp even as I’m filled with a warm glow. My lips pull up at the corners as I recall the first time he asked me that. I love when he calls me his flower. “Yes, master.”
His thrusts come harder. His hold on me tightens. “We shall see, pet. We shall see.”
But I do blossom for him. He is my everything. He is the soil I’m rooted in. The sun and rain that nourishes me. And I am his flower.
The End
Thank you for reading! I wanted to write a hot and filthy human pet story for a while now. I hope it checked all the boxes. If you enjoyed and would like more, you can look for Ren, Screvan, and Tal’s companion stories, in Their Reluctant Pets, coming soon!
Other Books by Aubrey Cara
Monrok Warriors
Taking Their Human
Keeping Their Human
Kinky Contemporaries
Chasing Delia
Taming Kat
Mimi Mine
Candi's Debt
Want some more hot Monrok action in your life?
Turn the page for Chapter One of Monrok Warriors: Taking Their Human
Or Read Now
TAKING THEIR HUMAN
Chapter One
ALLYSON
Some people wake up gradually. They lounge in the comfort of their beds and let the light streaming in infiltrate their brain while they lie in denial until they can refute no longer the fact they must face the day.
I’ve never been like that. My eyes pop open the second I’m awake, the need to get up and be active on me. This is the first time I’ve ever lain in bed doing the denial routine.
Am I even awake?
I’m certainly not in my bed.
The room is white and all angles. It’s definitely not mine. Nor is the squishy gel-like mat I’m lying on. The lights are recessed and provide a dim glow giving the sensation of night. I’m trying not to freak out. I look down and pat myself. I’m wearing the same jeans and T-shirt I put on. I search my brain and try to remember where I was last. My apartment, maybe? Did I fall asleep?
As stupid as it may sound, I feel awake. Yet, this has to be the strangest dream I’ve ever had.
There is no doorway in this peculiar room, just one open wall. An incandescent glow shimmers in the space, but I can still see through to the other side. Another white wall, of course. Getting up, I pad over to the opening. The closer I get, the more I can hear a hum.
When I reach out a finger, a sizzle much like a static charge zaps my finger. I yank my hand back to rub and shake out the hurt.
“Hello?” My voice is shaky with nerves. I’m like the girl in a horror film. I bang on the wall next to me and speak up. “Hello? Anyone out there?”
There’s no reply. Just the eerie hum of the electric doorway. I scan the room for video surveillance. Am I even now being watched? Icy fingers of panic crawl up my back. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself and assess the situation. I’m not coming up with any good explanations for waking up in a place like this all alone. There has to be a way out of here, and it’s possibly through the shimmer wall. I’m not sure if the electric charge is strong enough to hold me if I try forcibly breaking through, but there is only one way to find out.
I back up a few feet. The room isn’t large, so I’m standing on the mat, my back to the wall.
Taking a running start, I jump at the opening.
With a painful jolt, every muscle in my body seizes. Lit up like a Christmas tree, I’m flung backwards across the small space. I hit the opposite wall with a thud and fall to the mat, ears ringing. Every nerve in my body is on fire, racked in agony. It’s like the misery of being bitten by a hundred army ants all at once.
Panting, I flop onto my back, and wait for the pain to ebb. I take in my surroundings once again. This isn’t a dream. I’m being held captive. And the sadistic bastard has me trapped.
My mind spins with implications and psychological horror film scenarios, none of them good. The possibilities of pain and torture are endless.
Panic constricts my chest making it hard to breath. I try to calm. To breathe. It’s not working.
Why the hell would anyone take me? Who would take me? I’m just a twenty-year-old waitress from Iowa. No one gives a shit about me.
Since my parents died when I was sixteen, I’ve been on my own. For a very short time, I went to live with my aunt, but her husband was grabby, and she had low self-esteem. When I took my stuff and left, she was more relieved than concerned. Outside of my ex-boyfriend, my boss and coworkers at the diner, no one knows I exist.
&nb
sp; Crap. Maybe that’s why I was taken. No one knows I exist.
They make movies about these kinds of abductions. The ones you hear about on the news and think could never happen to you. It never pays to be the loner. This may be the hi-tech basement of some sadistic bastard’s house. I could be kept here for years, maybe decades, before anyone finds me.
I fight off the tide of helplessness threatening to wash over me. The only ones who get away are those who keep trying to escape. I need to find a way to accomplish that.
When my parents died, I’d been hollowed out and scared out of my mind. Heartbroken and alone. But I had survived.
I can survive this.
No, I will survive this.
I don’t know what I’m up against but I’m getting the hell out of here.
Filled with determination or insanity, I get up and steel my spine. I’d rather kill myself trying to escape than be tortured over weeks, months…years.
A yell like the roar of a battle ready warrior of the past rips from me. Running, I hurl myself at the shimmer wall. Pain grips me and flings me back.
Shit. I writhe on the floor, gasping for breath.
The pungent scent of my own urine greets me before I feel any of the telltale signs. I’ve pissed myself. My pants are soaked through with it, but I don’t care. When I can breathe, I get up, my legs like rubber.
My entire body fights me, but I do it again.
The third time, I smell my hair burning as I pass out.
***
Groggy, I come to, stumbling down a passageway with the aid of a half-naked man. Every step sends a jolt of pain spiking up my legs. The floor is metal and cold under my socked feet. The man assisting me is well-defined, bald, and blue.
A beautiful, irradiant blue-green color.
On. His. Skin.
I squint, my mind reeling, but it’s still there. Still that color. Licking my finger, I rub it over his skin, trying to take off the paint or dye. Only then does he gaze down at me.
Well, shit.
His eyes are pure black slanted orbs and not human. Not human at all. His nose is almost flat with nothing but slits for nostrils. He’s a foot taller than me, wearing silk-like flowy pants but no shirt. Now that I’m really looking, he has no nipples.
Shit, shit, shit, shit. I’m not nearly lucid enough to process this right now. If it weren’t for his bruising grip on my arm, I would be back to thinking I was dreaming.
A door in the passageway swishes open and I’m pulled through, scrambling to keep up. The room has a sterile smell much like a hospital. There’s a strange table in the middle of the room, but I instinctively know what it is.
An exam table.
Fear punches through me. All groggy disorientation disappears. The aches and pains fade back. In fact, I’ve never been more alert in my life. Adrenaline grips me. Time to freak-the-eff-out is upon me. I push at my captor, fighting for the first time. I’m weak, my body sore from my foray with the electric wall, but I have panic on my side. Making me strong.
Just not strong enough.
More blue hands yank at my clothes, stripping me. Screaming and kicking in helpless frustration, the last of my modesty is torn away. Naked, I’m unceremoniously shoved into an opening the size of a small closet. I don’t have time to wonder where I am before the wall seals shut.
I’m boxed in. Confined.
Screaming, I bang on the wall as a fine astringent smelling mist covers me from head to toe. I close my eyes, momentarily blinded. It fills my mouth and nose. Spitting and coughing, I struggle for breath. The mist burns my skin. Terror grips me. I pound on the walls.
Another mist covers me. This one is oilier and soothes my aching skin. It has a pleasant fresh scent but does nothing to calm me. I’m blasted with air all around me, so intense I can’t breathe to scream.
Panting, I scrub at my face when it abruptly stops. “Let me out!” Blinking open my eyes, I’m blinded by bright lights. An opening appears.
Two bare-chested blue men grab me. Their cruel hands yank me out of the booth. I stumble and pull at their hold. The examination table has been contorted in the middle to make a sex pillow like wedge. It’s made of four segments. The front two slope up, and the third is straight down, making an angle. The last segment is flat.
I struggle with all my might, but they still easily maneuver me facedown on the cold surface, my naked ass in the air. I fight in earnest as my thighs are wrenched into an open position. Restraints tighten over my thighs, calves, and wrists.
Pure terror rips from my throat, ringing in my ears. Tears of frustration and fear leak down to my hairline. I’m a sobbing, screaming mess. Immobile, I squirm, but it’s no use. The bindings are padded, but solid enough not to allow any kind of movement.
From the corner of my eye, I see a new figure enter the room. He has such grace he appears to be floating. The satiny kimono-like robes he wears match his blue-green skin tone, but are interlaced with gold patterns.
Unlike the man who brought me here, his eyes are a startling glowing green. He also has hair. Oily ink-black hair starts at the top of his head and flows down to his lower back, knotted in segments to make a long tail.
Although mesmerizing, his face is devoid of emotion as he glides towards me.
My body tenses; my stomach twists in a sick knot. A tremor races through me. From shock or terror, I don’t know.
“So this is the new human female we have acquired?” he asks, running a boney hand down my flank. I flinch, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
It’s only when one of the men who brought me in answers him that I notice their chiming voices. Or their language, more likely. They’re not speaking English, yet I understand their words perfectly.
Standing at my head, he asks, “Can you understand me, human?”
Shaking, I can’t will my vocal cords to work. I blink at him as more tears leak from my eyes.
Giving a command that does not translate, the robed man holds out his hand. He takes a thin tube and holds it to my arm.
After a pinprick, the raw fear I’ve been inundated with begins to recede. A languid sensation sweeps through me.
He’s drugged me.
Even as my racing heart calms, a small voice in the back of my head reminds me I should be freaking out.
My thoughts scatter. The voices around me waft in a thick fog. My body starts to prickle uncomfortably, and I want to squirm. The drugs they gave me are making me aroused. Feeling my body heat, I start crying in earnest.
It’s long moments before the robed man is back in front of me. “I see she is decontaminated. That is good. Open your mouth, human.” His voice is hypnotic.
Without thought, I sniffle, opening my mouth.
“Excellent. The translator does work,” he says as he runs his fingers along my teeth.
I’m outside of myself as he holds my mouth open with a thumb on my tongue and fingers under my chin.
He turns my head this way and that, shining a penlight down my throat. He leans close during inspection. His unnatural scent is darkly seductive and sends awareness to my naked bits. My nipples tighten, and I whimper as my body reacts to him.
“She is responding to the pheromones. Make a note of it.” Standing up, he dispassionately looks me over. “Bring her to an orthostatic position.”
The men release me, but I’m still bound. The restraints aren’t connected to the table. They’re electromagnetic or something. They stand me up, arms over my head, legs kicked out farther than shoulder width. With a click, the restraints lock up in the air at the position they put me in.
A telltale slickness on my thighs makes me cringe. I hate that they’ve drugged me, but it’s allowed the blind panic to ebb. My mind is still sluggish, my body’s reaction a betrayal.
“How long ‘‘ave I been here? What d’you want with me?” My words come out sounding drunken and it’s a struggle to keep my head up.
The robed man’s lips pull up in a slight sickly smile, but he says no
thing. He yanks at my pubic hair, a distasteful expression on his face. “Alter the follicle cavities over her sheath and body with proper sensory receptors that will block any pathogens.” He studies me for a moment. “Do this on all the females. We do not want them falling susceptible to illness.”
His thin hands roam down to my hips and back up to my breasts, pinching my nipples tightly. I squeal and jerk at my restraints, wanting to bat his cruel hands away even as my sex clenches.
He pulls something out of his pocket. A thin flat leather strip with a handle, no longer than his hand. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he slaps my face with it. I gasp. More tears sting my eyes, this time from shock and pain. My cheek throbs.
“Behave, human.” His voice is calm but authoritative.
Despite the sedative, anger burns in my chest. My mouth tightens in a mutinous line.
His air of disinterest cracks. Now he’s clearly annoyed. “Your defiance is showing, human.”
In my head, I scream I don’t give a shit. But self-preservation prevails. I turn my gaze away from his, my body trembling once again. A fever has swept through me, filling me with a hollow ache between my legs, my head heavy.
“I am Prince Kaihan of the Zapex,” he says casually, as if this were a regular meeting at any doctor’s office. “I have been studying the males of your species for quite a while. You, female, will go down in history as the first of your kind to be successfully bred with our Monrok.” His eyes flare triumphantly.
That’s why he gave me the drugs that are making my body betray me. I’m about to be impregnated by aliens. But what kind of aliens? What did he say? Moonrocks? Munrooks? What?
I’m not a lab experiment, I want to scream. I’m a human…and that means nothing here.
He pulls out two black nubs then suctions one onto my right nipple. Lightning shoots through me. My breast throbs.
“We are hopeful these will help stimulate early milk production.”